Chapter 15

The phone rang again.

Ethan answered immediately, putting it on speaker.

A low, tense voice came through the line.

"We have a problem."

Everly went still beside him, her breath catching.

Ethan's grip tightened on the phone. "What happened?"

A rustle on the other end, then the man spoke again, quieter this time.

"Two men just went inside the house where the kids are. We don't like it. Something's off."

Ethan's jaw clenched.

He had been prepared for this—for them to make a move. But now that it was happening, the rage curling inside him was impossible to contain.

Everly let out a sharp breath, her hands gripping the desk, her voice rising with panic.

"Then go get them!" she said, her voice urgent, almost pleading. "Now!"

The man on the other end didn't hesitate. "Understood. Moving in now."

The line cut.

Silence filled the room, heavy and suffocating.

Everly turned to Ethan, her face pale, her eyes wide and desperate.

"Do you think—?"

"They'll be fine," Ethan said, but his voice was tighter than usual. "They're professionals. They wouldn't have waited this long if they weren't sure they could get the boys out safely."

She looked at him like she wanted to believe him.

But the fear in her eyes—**the way her hands wouldn't stop shaking—**told him that she didn't.

Not until her brothers were really safe.

Ethan exhaled slowly, his mind already racing.

He needed to be ready.

Because once the kids were safe—

It was time to end this.

The call came.

Short. Direct.

"The kids are safe. En route to the safe house."

Ethan finally let out the breath he had been holding, his shoulders loosening just slightly.

Everly gasped beside him, her hands covering her mouth, tears welling in her eyes—this time from relief.

"They're safe?" she whispered, almost not believing it.

Ethan nodded, gripping her hand. "They're safe."

She exhaled a shaky breath, sagging against him, her body finally losing the tension that had kept her rigid for days.

It was over.

Or so he thought.

BAM!

The door slammed open.

Everly screamed, spinning toward the sound as footsteps stormed inside.

Ethan didn't have to guess who it was.

He already knew.

Richard and Eleanor Sinclair.

And they weren't alone.

Three men entered behind them—guns raised, eyes dead cold, exuding the kind of danger that meant one thing:

They weren't here to negotiate.

They were here to end it.

Eleanor sighed, closing the door behind her like she owned the room, her gun held delicately, almost carelessly in one hand.

Richard, on the other hand, was seething, his jaw tight, his fingers clenching around the pistol he carried.

"You really thought you won?" he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

Ethan didn't move. Didn't flinch.

He simply watched them, eyes calm, controlled.

Everly, however, was shaking.

"You sent men after them," she hissed, her voice breaking as she glared at Eleanor. "They're just kids!"

Eleanor sighed, giving her a pitying look. "And yet, they were in my way."

Ethan's jaw tightened.

"You lost, Eleanor." His voice was cold. Deadly. "You don't have them. You have nothing."

Richard let out a dark chuckle. "We have you."

Ethan raised a brow. "And?"

Richard's smirk twisted into something darker.

"And we're about to correct a mistake we made three years ago."

Everly stiffened.

Ethan's blood turned ice cold.

Eleanor tilted her head, her smile widening. "Oh, don't look so surprised, darling. You always suspected, didn't you?"

Ethan exhaled slowly, eyes dark, calculating.

"You tried to kill me before," he murmured. "And now you're going to try again."

Richard nodded. "But this time, we're making sure we finish the job."

Eleanor's fingers tightened around the gun, her expression turning colder, sharper.

"We've already sent men after the children," she said lightly. "And now, we just need to clean up the last bit of evidence—you two."

Everly's breath hitched, her hands curling into fists.

"You're going to make it look like a burglary gone wrong," Ethan stated flatly.

Eleanor smiled. "You always were the smart one."

Richard raised his gun, his expression void of hesitation.

"Say goodbye, nephew."

Ethan didn't blink.

Didn't move.

Didn't react.

Because he wasn't afraid.

Because he had been waiting for this moment.

And they had just made the biggest mistake of their lives.

CRASH!

The window shattered, glass exploding inward as the sharp, deafening crack of a silenced sniper shot filled the air.

Two men dropped.

Straight to the floor. Bullet holes in their skulls.

A perfect, clean kill.

Ethan didn't even flinch.

Because he had been expecting this.

Because this was his plan.

The remaining men scattered, diving behind furniture, scrambling for cover.

Eleanor cursed, her composure cracking for the first time as she grabbed Richard's arm.

"We have to move!" she hissed, eyes scanning for another escape.

But Richard didn't flinch.

Didn't run.

Because his gaze was locked on something else.

Something he hadn't expected.

Ethan.

Standing.

Moving.

He grabbed Everly's wrist, pulling her with him, moving toward the bedroom without hesitation.

And that's when they knew.

Richard's face twisted in shock.

Eleanor's breath hitched.

They had let him live for years.

Let him stay in his chair, let him think he was harmless, let him believe he was trapped by his own weakness.

And now, they realized—

They had been played.

Everly stumbled behind him, confused, panicked, her voice shaking as they rushed into the bedroom.

"Ethan—what—"

"Stay down," he ordered, pushing her against the wall as he reached under the bed and pulled out a gun.

Her eyes widened.

She had never seen him like this.

Not calm, confident, ruthless.

Not dangerous.

She hadn't known.

No one had.

Because he had made sure of it.

Outside, Richard let out a sharp bark of laughter.

"Well, well, well," he called out, his voice laced with mocking amusement. "Look who can suddenly walk."

Ethan's grip tightened on the gun.

He stepped forward, slowly, deliberately, keeping Everly behind him.

Richard's smirk widened, his own gun raised, finger hovering over the trigger.

"Let's end this," he murmured. "I'll kill both of you. And this time, I'll make sure you stay dead."

Ethan's green eyes darkened.

His lips curled into a cold, dangerous smile.

"Try me."

"Take this."

Ethan pressed the gun into Everly's shaking hands, gripping her fingers firmly around it.

Her eyes were wide, terrified, her breath uneven.

"I—Ethan, I can't—"

"You can," he said sharply. "And you will if you have to. Go. Hide. Don't come out unless it's over."

She swallowed, her fingers tightening around the gun, her entire body trembling, but she nodded.

Without another word, she ran, disappearing into the hallway, heading toward one of the guest rooms.

He heard the closet door click shut—and then, she was gone.

Good.

Now, he could focus.

Now, he could finish this.

The Fight Begins

The moment Ethan stepped out of the bedroom, a bullet whizzed past his ear, slamming into the doorframe behind him.

BANG!

He didn't hesitate.

He rolled to the side, raising his gun and firing twice.

BANG! BANG!

Richard ducked behind the couch, barely dodging, while Eleanor lunged behind a cabinet, her own gun already raised.

The air was thick with smoke and adrenaline, the scent of gunpowder burning through his senses.

Another shot.

Eleanor fired, the bullet nicking his shoulder, but he barely felt it.

He turned sharply and shot back, forcing her deeper into cover.

Richard barked a laugh, crouched low, gun in hand.

"You were always a survivor," he said, his voice mocking. "But do you really think you'll walk out of this alive?"

Ethan smirked, his heart pounding steadily, controlled.

"You're the one bleeding money, Richard," he shot back, moving smoothly between cover, his eyes scanning for an opening. "Your offshore accounts are locked. Your escape plans are gone."

Eleanor's eyes narrowed, her expression darkening.

Richard growled, raising his gun—

BANG!

Ethan fired first.

The bullet slammed into Richard's thigh, sending him crashing down with a curse.

Eleanor screamed, firing blindly—

Ethan dove behind the counter, grabbing a knife from the kitchen rack.

He heard Richard groaning, dragging himself across the floor, his blood staining the white marble.

And then—

A click.

A pair of footsteps disappearing down the hall.

Eleanor was running.

Not escaping.

No.

She was going after Everly.